Working as a dairyman

Even while I was at school I was chronically short of money. Coming from a poor family I had no pocket money. So in school holidays I had to find a part time job, my evening paper round was quite insufficient. After a few abortive tries I got a job with the Co-op dairy in Tamworth.

The dairy secretary was taking holidays in August and the idea was that I would fill in for this absence and work mainly in the dairy meantime. A major part of the job was unloading lorries bringing in bottled milk from the Fole bottling plant. The only bottling done on site was a third pint orange squash bottles. This was done by a long time employee and I wasn’t allowed anywhere near.

Essentially two types of milk were supplied. Pasteurised milk ( not homogenised in those days ) which was stored in a massive cold room, and sterilised ( which was homogenised ) with crimp on caps stored at ambient temperature. Pasteurised milk was subdivided into Channel Isles ( ie from Jersey or Guernsey cows ) and the rest( usually about ten times volume of the CI milk ). There was no reduced fat variant and the “top of the milk” with its high fat was considered a luxury.

There was a simple knack to this unloading procedure. The lorries had flat metal floors with milk in crates stacked five high with twenty bottles in each. The driver would break a bottle to spill on the lorry floor giving lubrication which enabled the stacks to be slid around pulled by a hooked handle. The total stack was then lifted by a sort of sack truck with prongs which engaged the bottom crate, and trundled to the cold store or warehouse. Each stack weighed about 135 pounds but was surprisingly easy to move. I wasn’t strong but had no problems unless I allowed the stack to topple.

Because moving the milk was fairly easy I became overconfident. I was detached to take a stack to the nearby milk bar. This required crossing a road which was on a slight slope. Stupidly I tried to cross at right angles; the slope wasn’t large but the stack started to topple over and it was far too heavy for me to stop it. Consequently the bottles fell out, smashed and milk ran down the gutter. I had to shamefacedly admit my accident. The dairy manager was very good about it; he had a reserve stock built up over many years so it was replaced with only a mild telling off for me.

I had no experience of working with a very disparate group and I was a bit concerned about how I would get along. I was accepted with some degree of amusement. I think I came over as a bit of an eager beaver and certainly being seen to be very willing to do my full share of work went down well. As far as I knew it was the first time a schoolboy ( albeit a 17 year old ) had worked in the dairy as a summer job and I reckon I must have been at least acceptable as I went back for a second summer.

When I took on the dairy secretary’s job the first day was a Sunday. The practice was that on a Sunday as soon as essential work was finished we all went home. I was faced with totalling up the sales and returns at the end of deliveries. I had a calculator to use but I wasn’t familiar with it and so was slow. The deputy manager lost patience waiting for me, took the paperwork, did the additions in his head very quickly ( and he was absolutely right ), gave me the totals and we all went home, me rather red faced.

Another aspect of the job was the telephone. Few people had telephones at home ( my family certainly didn’t ) but in this business environment it was essential. I soon became used to using a phone through necessity. I was occasionally afterwards accused of being a “phoneaholic “. At Castrol my boss used to grumble I always had a phone stuck in my ear ( a gross exaggeration )

I only went on deliveries a few times. I discovered the roundsmen had great memories and worked at an intense pace. With commission they were comparatively  well paid. However this pay was a contrast to a warehouseman. I had a young married man as colleague who with two children found it difficult to make ends meet.

The rounds made planned stops; there were tea breaks at selected houses when we could briefly relax. These were houses where the roundsman made regular breaks and we were always made very welcome.

I worked at the dairy for two summers and it was a rewarding experience. In the second summer Annette worked in the main Co-op pottery department and would be sent to the dairy for tea break milk. I was delighted to see her despite some gentle ribbing from my colleagues.

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